Tapestries of Decay
Requiem of the Moth S02 C05
Content warnings1
"Is Velin coming?" Usira asks.
Selin shakes his head. "He's been absent a lot but won't tell me where he goes or why. I'm running out of excuses to placate your mother."
"Touching as this show of familial affection is, I recommend we get on with it," Yun says dryly, completing the little triumvirate.
"This is what we found." Usira places the knotted cloth on the floor of the shrine, blissfully deserted during this time of day. They sit on floor cushions under the veiled gaze of the Moth herself, the abstract image watching over her material children.
Selin unties the knot. Among the waterproof folds lie the remains of larvae, pupae, and adult Ruby Tapestry Moths they collected in the Zillia Downs. The patterned wings of the moths have paled since their death but are still rusty red. In some places, they have been crushed and ground into clay-coloured powder.
Yun leans in and stops short of touching the remains. "Venom?"
"We haven't found any. They're safe to eat," Usira admits.
Yun lifts two powdered fingers to his lips. Usira has to drag his gaze away from the unwitting eroticism, imploring the Moth to carry his desires with the wind under her wings—far away into the darkness. Of course, the Moth doesn't comply.
"Pungent," Yun remarks.
"The pupae are sweeter," Selin explains. "Most recipes sweeten them further. In adults, the taste has matured too much, which makes the pupae even more of a delicacy."
"Why are we here again?" Usira interrupts.
Yun blinks at him. It must be the first time in his life that this Vessi tries to feign innocence—he fails miserably. "I thought you vowed to haunt me to the end of my days."
"No. Why here?" Usira gestures at the veiled statue, the high stone pillars.
"Again, I told you. This is safer than my office or, the Deep spare us, the clan quarter. No need to cater to me. We agreed to work together, I'm here to exchange information."
"Which we highly appreciate, honourable Vessi." Selin bows.
Gritting his teeth, Usira wills the memory of their brief exchange on the Downs out of his mind. He isn't entirely successful.
The verdant landscape below their feet is enough to steal anyone's breath. Usira, however, can't tear his gaze away from a pair of smouldering eyes. Perhaps it's the humid air, a spell of dizziness, that makes him mumble. "It appears the Moth rejected my prayer to never see you again."
"What do you want me to say?"
Usira tenses on the balls of his feet, ready to attack or to bolt. "What you've done is unforgivable."
"I know."
Usira wants to scream, cursing how the Vessi keeps dodging conventions. It would have been so easy to hate the image of the ruthless egotistical noble, so easy to dismiss the connection he wants to convince himself was only engineered. A means to an end. As it turns out, Yun is more cruel than that. "If you knew, why?"
"I did it because I knew."
Oh no, Usira thinks, you do not get to have a guilty conscience. "I've changed my mind," he announces.
Yun throws a sizzling glance at him, like an eel's touch. "Not so unforgivable? You disappoint me."
"If you knew and did it anyway, I won't let you get away with it that easily. You said we should collaborate. I'll remind you of the blood on your hands, on mine, every single time we meet. You're not allowed to forget anymore."
Yun closes his eyes. "So be it."
Usira hates the resignation in that gesture, how it tugs at his chest.
"We've collected as many larvae and pupae as we could find, some adults for good measure. There were no anomalies in any of them." He addresses Yun. "It must've been the cinnamon they were sweetened with."
Yun stares at the pile of moth dust. "The cinnamon is sold by traveling merchants and transported into Sedrivaris by the Silvedhri. There is no monopoly, every clan is free to buy as much as they can afford. A small part of our cinnamon is used for festivals, the rest goes to a certain gaudy cousin of mine."
"How many know of our past relations?"
Yun has started drawing geometric shapes into the reddish dust. "Hard to say."
What Usira hears is: We were as careful as anyone but in Kandamsin, even the thickest walls have ears. One never knows who might overhear. Best to not invite blackmail at all, or keep acting like we've separated for good.
"He's not terribly cunning," Yun continues, oblivious to Usira's relief. "We can assume the cinnamon wasn't tampered with."
Selin and Usira exchange glances. "The thing about the Zillia Downs," Selin says, "is their unique climate. It's home to species we can get nowhere else. It's also home to a variety of other creatures that influence their lifecycle, their survival rate, nutrition, everything."
"The elders still tell stories of that wasp plague."
"Wasp?" Yun's intonation reveals he has never heard, let alone pronounced that word before.
"A flying insect, feeds on flower nectar, has a nasty sting. When was it again?" Usira cocks his head at Selin.
"That must've been... oh, twenty years before we were born? When our parents were small children. My father only remembers all the cleaning he had to do."
"What happened?"
"One wasp species planted eggs inside moths we caught and served at some big ceremony. Several clanspeople were sick the next day but no one died. The plague decimated the moth population on the Downs for several years though. Of course, many clans came to us to complain about the shortage in banquet food."
"This could happen again? A plague?"
Usira knows better than to expect sympathy from a clan member. Still, hope is a stubborn flutter against his ribs. "It might. The conditions are so different from our usual hunting grounds, we don't know nearly enough about which moth predators might be exclusive to the Downs. Possibly it's too late already, even if we started taking measures right now."
Yun pushes to his feet. Part of the moth dust rises with him, as if animated by his puppetry genius. "We have to assume the worst. Investigate the Downs, get more samples, whatever might help or serve as proof. Come to me for resources. I need more to convince the others."
With that, he strides out of the shrine. Selin is wise enough not to ask about the nature of Usira's relations with the Vessi.
Author Notes
Before declaring this chapter finished, I tried to come up with a title that referenced Baudelaire's Flowers of Evil, entwining decay and sexuality as Usira briefly does in his observations and thoughts of Yun. Writing that made me want to reread Baudelaire (and Gideon the Ninth). Sadly, I left my copy back in Europe.
Digital paper shall have to suffice then: one juicy quote from Danse Macabre, which seems fitting, in William Aggeler's translation.
In all climes, under every sun, Death admires you
At your antics, ridiculous Humanity,
And frequently, like you, scenting herself with myrrh,
Mingles her irony with your insanity!
How ironic, too, that I write this in spring, with the Japanese cherry blossom season in full swing. Death and decay is politely swept under the rug. Maybe I'm conducting my own little rebellion in these pages. I hope you appreciate it.
Anyway, things are happening. The plot is plotting. I've been writing consistently, doing a good job of balancing on that tightrope called life. Spring always brings a burst of energy. Let's see where it takes us next, shall we?
Light mentions of moths, wasps, death, decay